A Downbeat in This Life's Spontaneous Musical
by Queen of the Castle
Summary: Rose thought it would be easier if some higher power had their finger poised over the Universal Emergency Eject Button from the moment she'd been dragged across the void.  Humour fic leaning towards parody .


Rose thought it would be easier if some higher power had their finger poised over the Universal Emergency Eject Button from the moment she'd been dragged across the void. At least then she wouldn't feel bad about just how much she didn't want to be here.

Instead, it was ridiculous how easily she fit into this new world. The whole of reality seemed to shift around her, and before she even knew it, she'd been accepted into a life she never wanted. An outside observer would never even begin to guess that she didn't belong here.

Her Dad who wasn't her Dad – who didn't even _want_ to be her Dad, last she saw him – gave her and her Mum a home. A home so large, in fact, that she mightn't see any of its other occupants for days on end, except for the strangers who called themselves 'household staff'. _They_ flitted about the place so cheerfully that Rose suspected they were just biding their time before bursting into song like some West End musical or children's fairy tale.

Rose didn't have much patience for fairy tales these days. She'd almost allowed herself to believe, somewhere deep down, that she'd found her prince, complete with white horse, who would swept her away to his castle (or, well, his _box_) so they could finally live their happily ever after. Then she'd been proved spectacularly wrong.

So she'd really rather that the lot of them just act tired and bitter, thanks, like any self-respecting minimum-wage workers.

After a while, the too-large house (which sometimes reminded her uncomfortably of the bigger-on-the-inside home she'd involuntarily left behind) got to be too much to take, so Rose went looking for a flat. Unfortunately, Rose couldn't seem to find anywhere that would rent by the week in an area of the city where she wouldn't be robbed and killed at least three times a day (and that was just before breakfast).

"I really don't want a twelve-month lease," she sighed. "I don't want to be tied down here for that long."

The landlord grinned at her like they were sharing a joke. Was it natural to smile as much as this bloke seemed to?

"A haggler, eh?" he laughed. "You're gonna bankrupt me, young lady, but I like you. How about I knock twenty quid off for early payment. How's that?"

"_So_ not the point," Rose muttered, but she signed the contract anyway. She'd lived with little-to-no money for enough of her life to know not to turn down a bargain.

That signature represented a first step towards accepting her place in this world. She grimaced.

The next step came unexpectedly when Mickey dragged her into the London Torchwood office. She'd only been there the once, after initially being pulled from one universe's lever room to another, yet all of the staff greeted her as if she was an old friend. They all had so much enthusiasm that Rose wanted to run away screaming. Four of the guys (and, interestingly, one girl) even hit on her within the first twenty minutes, as if she wasn't giving off an obvious 'I just lost the man I love in a tragic universal rupture accident – _don't_ ask me how!' vibe. None of them seemed perturbed in the slightest when she made her answer of 'not in a million years' clear. One even came back to try again.

She took a job with Torchwood after all, and everyone took it as a sign that she was finally settling in. Really, though, it was just the opposite. This might be the key to discovering the next available off-ramp out of this universe, even if that meant having to work with Cheerful Creature Catchers 'R' Us.

Rose remembered being as happy as her fellow employees seemed to be just to _exist_ in this universe. Had she been that annoying, running about with the Doctor sporting a perpetual grin? Surely not. No one could possibly be as maddening as Rhonda the secretary, who whistled tunelessly while she photocopied and told _every single person_ who walked past, even those who'd already passed by twelve times in the last hour, to 'have a swell day'.

Rose worried that she'd go completely mental (or more so, at least) if she had to stick around much longer.

The sooner she could get back to where she was meant to be, the better.

~*~*~

It was possible that this was _why_ she'd been so nicely slotted into this world on arrival. She'd wanted nothing more than to be with the Doctor, and now he was here _with_ her, with a ready-made life just waiting for them to settle into.

Though she couldn't imagine the sight of him standing in her little flat ever seeming _right_.

"So..." the Doctor said, looking around as if the sight of the television and chairs completely mystified him. "Looks as though you've really fit into this world. You've got your family, and all those people from Torchwood who seem to worship the ground you walk on – as they should, by the way, because you're absolutely brilliant, you are – and you've got this... this _place_, with the curtains, and the carpets, and the completely ordinary not-jiggery-pokeried-at-all toaster just over there, that's nice, and... and _doors_... a lot of doors..."

"Yeah, sure is great," Rose said sardonically. "Anyways, you wanna stow away on the next Zeppelin out of the country?"

"_Oh yeah_," the Doctor breathed, sounding relieved. "Can we get out of here now? Or maybe five minutes ago? Just _looking_ at this place makes me itch."

"Bit too domestic?" Rose asked sympathetically.

"Bit not _me_," the Doctor countered. "And not you, either. Not anymore. You don't belong in a place like this, Rose Tyler."

"No," Rose agreed. "I really don't."

The Doctor grinned.

For the first time in years, the sight of someone in this universe looking completely happy didn't make Rose want to scream. It made her want to join the song and dance.


End file.
